


Play the Game

by Alley_Skywalker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Secret Relationship, Sexual Experimentation, first wizarding war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-25
Updated: 2012-09-25
Packaged: 2017-11-15 00:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_Skywalker/pseuds/Alley_Skywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Because it breaks my heart that we live this way.<br/>I know people need love 'cause them people never play the game.<br/>And we talk the talk. We communicate.<br/>The people need love. Those people never play the game.”<br/>– IAMX, “Spit It Out.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play the Game

Half the time he just sits there, Merlin knows. Sits at the end of the table as all of his housemates and so called friends enjoy the evening, the food and each other’s company. Regulus feels isolated from the noise of the life bubbling around him. The world is muted and the lights of the candles too bright. People say he is naturally too introverted and cold but they’re wrong. He just can’t stand the noise and the jumble that revolves around him.

His Quidditch team have no thought but of the house rivalry and game tactics. They are mostly unsophisticated half-bloods and he finds no comfort in their vulgar talk and narrow-mindedness. Those who are pureblood or at least bearable have formed a group around Evan Rosier. The popular, pureblooded, rich, handsome, Evan Rosier. The unobtainable one. They are a rowdy, spectacular lot and Regulus wishes he had that much life in him, that much enthusiasm. Evan’s lot sparkles and bubbles and lives like champagne. Regulus can only wish to get that close to oblivion. He is more like wine himself, fermented and calm, if dizzying then in that refined way that comes as a bore to many his age.

There is Severus of course. He is coarse in upbringing but his calm and intelligence makes up for that. Yet Severus seems to have chosen to dedicate himself to two things, and only two, in the entire world – books and Lily Evans. In his fourth year, this very realization had broken Regulus’ heart.

The ladies he has no interest in, though he knows that eventually he will be forced to chose a Bride. It is now his foremost duty. Sirius is no longer Heir so it is all up to him.

His eyes wonder as always, attention scattering to other faces and objects than those he is familiar with. Sometimes he notices Remus Lupin all the way across the room. Lupin is always with Potter and Black and that whole lot though, Regulus thinks, he hardly seems to belong there. Less so than Pettigrew, even.

Regulus can not possibly know that Lupin is only there because James Potter doesn’t want a spit in his domain. If Black had it his way, Lupin would have been so completely rejected that there would be nothing left of the boy’s heart. Remus had been brave the night he said those three words to Sirius. Braver than Sirius had ever been himself in his entire life. He had paid for his nerve too. Badly. Now, a year later, he was still on the receiving end of Black’s disgusted stares for Sirius could accept a warewolf but never a homosexual. Never.

*

Regulus escapes to the astronomy tower as soon as his homework is finished and all the necessary appearances are made. He skulks in the dark and drifts off in his own consciousness, trying to figure out what is wrong with him.

He runs into Remus Lupin on sheer accident. They simply collide in the dark. Then Remus’ hands are on Regulus’ shoulders and they are both breathing hard. Remus’ eyes shine feverishly in the dark as he mumbles, “What are you doing here?”

Regulus sees the swollen redness of the other boy’s eyes and reaches out a hand to touch his cheek. It’s wet. “I could ask you that too.” They stare at each other for a while, then both take a step foreword and sideways. The same side, colliding again.

Lupin’s lips are on Regulus’ own but he doesn’t mind. His hands slide under Lupin’s shirt. Regulus is hard and he reaches down to grope Lupin’s crotch. The older boy whimpers and swings his hips foreword. There is nothing gentle about how they kiss. It is demanding and harsh, bruising and possessive.

Lupin wants Sirius’ little brother. It’s the perfect revenge.

Regulus wants to walk the line. Maybe, if he tries, he can break out of his shell and be like everyone else. Be normal. Maybe life will explode into fireworks if he can just come, damn it. Come over someone’s body and face. Maybe he can force some meaning into his life, some spirit. Maybe his orgasm will sparkle and hiss like champagne and he can learn how to be like Evan’s lot.

Remus blows him then fucks him hard against the wall. They’re both exhausted and crumple to the floor. Regulus clutches onto Remus with a longing like he’d never felt before. Because his orgasm was like fireworks. Like expensive champagne.

Remus feels the tug on his sleeve and leans into Regulus’ lap obediently. He’s needed. He’s wanted. Finally.

Finally.

*

It was meant to be a one night stand. But it continues. Continues in the most rudimentary of ways.

The first is on a rainy afternoon after a Quidditch match. Regulus was cold and shivering from the rain. He’d held back in the locker room for no reason of consequence. Then Lupin barges in as though he’d known Regulus was there. He peals Regulus’ wet clothes off and warms his body with kisses. “You are so hot on that broom.” They use brooms as giant dildos. It hurts and it’s probably not safe but Regulus likes it that way. At least he’s living up to something. To something he’s not.

The second time is in Hogsmeade in the dead of winter. Sirius and James go off to torture Snape and Peter follows along pathetically. Lupin goes off wondering. Unwanted and alone. Regulus finds and hides him in some small motel tucked away on a tiny side street. There is chocolate sauce involved and simultaneous, mutual blowjobs. Then they lie on the bed on top of the sheets breathing heavily and feeling completely satisfied with themselves.

The third time they actually agree on. Somehow, they manage to get into the prefects’ bathroom. Regulus pours a tub full of warm water and Lupin sinks into the water. They experiment with bubbles and soaps. At one point, Remus sticks the tip of his cock above the water with a big soap bubble balanced on the tip. Regulus blows the bubble off with a laugh. They experiment dangerously – Regulus diving under water, holding his breath, with only the below-the-waist part of him sticking up while Remus sucks on his deliciously hard member.

They continue in this way. Their wild affair is not only secret but completely spontaneous almost every time. It’s not love. It has nothing to do with love. In fact, they don’t even bother to talk any more than necessarily, What would they say? It’s all just fucking and they prefer it that way because, Merlin knows, it is easier that way.

Everyone says love is the greatest happiness. As far as Remus and Regulus are concerned, it’s the greatest hassle and the greatest farce. Their arrangement is pure pleasure and no broken hearts.

*

When it starts to hurt, to really hurt, Lupin notices first. It happens first when Evan Rosier suddenly realizes that Regulus exists and invites him into their group and Regulus actually has the nerve now to accept the invitation.

Regulus realizes sometime later, when Lupin’s monthly disappearances begin to grate. But they still never say a word. Because the people are still wrong and love has nothing to do with being happy.

However, one night, as they lie in a tangle of sweat and fluid soaked sheets, Remus starts talking. “Why are we doing this, Regulus?”

“Because it feels good.”

“Are we together? …Are we in love?”

“Merlin!”

“Maybe we are. Otherwise we wouldn’t be carrying on like this and we wouldn’t be so jealous of each other’s other conquests. So jealous that after every episode we rip into each other with such vengeance that there is almost more blood than cum.”

Regulus doesn’t respond, just stares at the ceiling.

“I hate this,” Remus continues. “I have enough secrets in my life to add another one. Can’t we just come out with it?”

Regulus smirks knowingly. “Who told you we’re in love? Either way, we shouldn’t bother saying anything to them.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is the only escape from reality we’ve got. If we start explaining things, we’ll just end up hating each other.”

“What if we fall in love?”

“It’ll destroy us.”

*

The night of the Death Eater raid on the Liverpool Aurors they come face to face after a long time apart. They duel and end up holding wands to each other’s throats, nothing but ice in the eyes that use to burn with passion and, by the end of it, something very different. That one damned thing that wasn’t supposed to happen.

When had they made the mistake? When they allowed it to become an affair? When they let themselves define why it hurt? When they, foolishly, decided they could carry on even in such a fragile state of emotional sanity?

Remus speaks first. He always had. “How long, Regulus?”

“Almost a year.”

“We ended up hating each other after all.”

“I told you we would.”


End file.
